


Derek/Meredith, He knows she hates the opera

by lone_lilly



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-18
Updated: 2008-09-18
Packaged: 2017-10-11 17:02:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lone_lilly/pseuds/lone_lilly





	Derek/Meredith, He knows she hates the opera

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

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[ga: derek/meredith](http://la-scapigliata.dreamwidth.org/tag/ga:+derek/meredith), [ga: derek/meredith(/etc) porn battle](http://la-scapigliata.dreamwidth.org/tag/ga:+derek/meredith%28/etc%29+porn+battle), [grey's anatomy](http://la-scapigliata.dreamwidth.org/tag/grey%27s+anatomy), [porn challenge](http://la-scapigliata.dreamwidth.org/tag/porn+challenge)  
  
  
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Derek/Meredith, He knows she hates the opera

  
Derek/Meredith, He knows she hates the opera  
adult

He knows she hates the opera. Truthfully, so does he. It's stuffy and boring and exactly the sort of thing he and Addison used to do because there were rules about being rich in Manhattan.

But that's not who he is with Meredith and yet somehow they're here anyway, tucked away in box seats they're sharing with Richard and Adele and Meredith keeps giving him these looks out of the corner of her eye when she catches him staring at her.

She looks amazing. Stunning. Gorgeous in her black cocktail dress that she produced out of nowhere especially for tonight and he gets the special treat of seeing firsthand all of the boarding school refinement her mother paid good money for as she pretends to pay attention to the soprano below them.

She's good at it too. There's not a trace of the fidgety, messy Meredith he finds so adorable-- the party girl with a penchant for tequila and one night stands-- but he knows she's in there somewhere. The little smirks she keeps throwing his way are promise enough.

As are the occasional flashes of creamy skin when she re-crosses her legs and the slit in her dress shifts enough that he can see the tops of her stockings.

He imagines what it will be like when he gets her home, still tipsy from too much wine during intermission. She'll hold onto his shoulders, steadying herself as he helps her out of her dress. Or maybe he'll make her do that part herself and he'll watch instead, instructing her to leave on her stockings and shoes before he pushes her onto the bed and climbs up her body.

She'll want to play too, and he'll let her, but only after he's made her squirm. Made her beg. Making a small noise in the back of his throat, he nods, feeling his body respond at the image of her writhing underneath his mouth, moaning his name.

Meredith glances at him suspiciously, her eyes widening nearly imperceptibly and then turns back around quickly when he slips his hand onto her knee and then up her leg, sneaking underneath the slinky fabric of her dress. He moves slowly, curious if she'll let him get away with it or if she'll push his hand away like a good girl and make him wait.

He can't decide which scenario turns him on more and either way? It's only fair if he distracts her as much as she does him. Besides, good girls don't go commando to the opera.

"Derek," she mouths inaudibly, shooting him another pointed look.

He smirks, moves his hand farther up, fingertips dancing lightly over her thigh and then higher. The soft noise she makes when he encounters bare skin instead of panties shoots straight to his groin and he strokes her, teases her, pushes one long finger inside her when he feels her arousal.

If she wants him to stop, she's doing a poor job of showing it; uncrossing her legs, she grabs his tuxedo jacket resting on the balcony, pulling it into her lap just as Adele leans over to whisper something in her ear.

"Cold," Meredith murmurs and again with the pretending because where his hand is at is anything but cold and he inserts a second finger into that warmth, seeing more than hearing her sharp intake of breath.

Her eyes flutter closed when he drags the pads of his fingers over the ball of nerve endings nestled within her folds. Once, twice, circles her in that way that usually makes her dig her nails into his shoulder before dipping back into her arousal. He repeats everything and watches as her eyes fly open and she stares ahead determinedly, her only tell the rise and fall of her chest which he happens to have vast experience translating into how close she is to coming.

It doesn't take long. Which is a good thing because the music swells around them as the first act thunders to a close and Meredith bites her lip and presses herself harder against him, grinding against him as her inner walls contract around his fingers.

A moment later the audience erupts in applause, rising to their feet and he finally removes his hand from her underneath her dress. She hands him his jacket and he offers her his hand, holding her gaze a little too long before helping her to her feet.

_That was only the beginning_, he promises her silently. She gives him a wry look that makes him smile. She knows.

Something tells him the second act is going to pass even slower than the first.


End file.
